


The Clue Bus

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, Futurefic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-20
Updated: 2003-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 11:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex finally catches a clue</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clue Bus

**Author's Note:**

> There was a challenge to write something for the 'Scruffy Clark' picture on GotClex's homepage. I know I'm slow - but, hey, I had a serious case of writer's block. Finally, this morning, inspiration struck. Yes, I exceeded the word limit. In a big way. I'm just so happy that I've actually written something that I just don't care! Many, many thanks to Mlle Elizabeth for reading this over. The kiss is just for her - hey, she read it _three times_ while looking for boo-boos. 

## The Clue Bus

by Jennie

<http://www.fhsarchive.com/hosted/Jennie.htm>

* * *

Title: The Clue Bus  
Author: Jennie  
Fandom: Smallville  
Pairing: Clark/Lex  
Rating: PG  
Date: 4-17-03  
Summary: Lex _finally_ get a clue.  
Category: First time. Humor.  
Archive: FHSA, WWOMB, SSA, yes. Anyone else, please ask first. Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money made. 

The Clue Bus  
by Jennie 

"One for Swordfish." Impatiently tapping his fingers against his thigh, Lex waited for the bumbling ticket seller to get over the shock of receiving a fifty dollar bill and give him his change. 

"Thanks," Lex said shortly, accepting the ticket and stuffing his change haphazardly into his trouser pocket. He entered the theater, ignoring the giggling group of teenage girls gathered just inside the glass doors, and made his way past the crowd at the refreshment stand. 

Late. He was running late, thanks to his father's unfailing ability to call with urgent business at the most inconvenient time possible. Glancing down at his watch and realizing that he had exactly one minute to find Clark and get settled before the movie started, Lex lengthened his stride. Not that he cared about the movie itself. Hell, he could get a copy of any damned movie he wanted, whenever he wanted, and view it in the comfort and privacy of his own home. Money, after all, did have its privileges. 

The thing was, between his ever full calendar, both business and social, and Clark's heavy schedule at Met U, they'd not had a chance to see each other for... damn, he hadn't seen Clark for almost two months. And speaking of Clark, where the hell was he? 

He spotted a familiar form standing near the entry. Those broad shoulders were hard to miss, even in a crowd - facing away from him. "Clark," he said, shifting direction, so that he came to a stop a couple of feet behind his friend. 

Clark turned and smiled. "Hey, Lex. I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it." 

Any number of answers would have been appropriate, under the circumstances - an apology and a simple explanation being the most obvious. Unfortunately, although quite understandably, he'd suddenly lost the ability to speak. Lex knew his mouth was hanging open. Just as he knew he was breathing rather quickly and his face had become quite flushed. He wasn't even going to acknowledge the fact that every hormone in his body was standing at attention. And saluting. Enthusiastically. 

* * *

"Lex?" Clark questioned hesitantly, when Lex continued to stand silent and still before him. "Lex! Are you okay?" 

No response. Well, other than a blink, Lex remained silent and unmoving. 

A slight frown of concern wrinkled the skin of Clark's forehead and he reached up to scratch absent-mindedly at the ten days growth of beard on his face. Obviously something was wrong. Very, very wrong. In all the time he'd known Lex Luthor, he'd never seen the other man speechless. He'd seen his friend in any number of emotional states over the years - angry, amused, contented, frightened, sad, even happy - and, no matter the situation, Lex _always_ had something to say. 

"Lex!" Clark repeated with increased concern. And volume. 

"Um," Lex responded. 

Okay, this was clearly an emergency. Grabbing Lex by one arm, Clark headed out of the theater. Maybe a little fresh air would clear Lex's head. 

His worry only grew, though. Not only did Lex accompany him outside without complaint or question, once they were on the sidewalk, the man just stood there, staring at Clark. 

"For God's sake, Lex, tell me what's wrong," Clark said urgently. 

"Huh?" 

After retrieving Lex's keys from a jacket pocket, locating the Porsche in the parking lot, and loading his still-silent friend into the passenger seat, Clark drove to Lex's penthouse in the LexCorp building without consideration of traffic laws or other vehicles on the road. He parked in the garage, and got them up to the penthouse with no problems - except for Lex's dazed state and continued regard. 

* * *

Why the hell were his teeth rattling, Lex wondered. Oh. Clark was shaking him. Rather forcefully. Which Lex did not care for at all. With his head whipping back and forth he could no longer contemplate the startling and stunning change in Clark's appearance. 

"Stop that," he protested, gripping Clark's forearms. 

"Finally!" Bending down, Clark studied his face intently. "You've got to tell me what's wrong, Lex. I'll help you. No matter what it is, I promise, I'll help you." 

Confused, Lex shook his head. Not a good idea, that. Made him dizzy. Unsteadily, he made his way to the sofa and sat. "Brandy," he requested. "I... need a drink." 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong, Lex. Are you hurt." 

"Wrong? Hurt? Clark, I'm fine. I just need a drink." 

Instead of doing as Lex asked, Clark sat on the coffee table. Right in front of him. Worse, he leaned forward and took Lex's hands in his own. "Lex," he said in a soothing tone, "you can trust me. _Something's_ wrong, I can tell. I've never... seen you like this." 

"Like what? What on earth are you talking about, Clark?" 

Sighing with exasperation, Clark shook his head at Lex. "You're acting like you're in shock." 

Offended, Lex straightened his back and glared at Clark. "Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with me." 

"Le-ex. You didn't say one single word between the time you found me and the time we got here. Except," he added, "for one 'um' and one 'huh' you just stared at me like an idiot the entire time." Crossing his arms on his chest, Clark thrust out his chin belligerently. "Something is definitely wrong, Lex. Now, tell me what's going on." 

"Have you been drinking, Clark?" 

"Don't try to change the subject, dammit." 

"I am not changing... " Wait a minute. It occurred to Lex that they were in his living room - not in the theatre watching whatever movie they'd planned to- 

Oh. Oh no. JesusfuckingChrist! The entire scene came back to him in Technicolor. Movie. Clark. Looking... And he'd... Fuck the _fucking_ dog! He, Lex Luthor, had made a complete and utter fool of himself just because Clark had grown a little beard, arranged his hair a bit differently, and worn the tightest godamned pair of jeans ever manufactured. 

As he knew full well that he couldn't outrun his friend, thereby locking himself in his bedroom to nurse his shame alone, Lex groaned and slumped back against the couch back. "Brandy," he croaked. 

"Talk to me, Lex," a quiet voice urged - from very close by. So close, in fact, that Lex could feel every word in the soft exhalations of breath that accompanied each. 

"It's nothing. Really Clark. A long day... week... month. Call from my Dad made me late. I rushed in and when I saw... um." 

"Saw what, Lex?" Worry clear in the question. "What did you see?" 

Fine. Just... fine. Clark asked, Lex would answer, godammit. "You," he said with impatient defensiveness. "I saw you. That," he added, waving in the general direction of Clark's face. "Those." 

"Those?" 

Lex decided to revise his opinion of Clark's intelligence. "Those!" he gritted, pointing at the jeans Clark had somehow poured his body into. 

And... Clark smirked. 

* * *

Well, it was about fucking time, Clark crowed inwardly. He'd just about given up hope of Lex _ever_ following through on all the flirting and sly innuendo. Grinning, he fingered his sparse beard, ruffled his hair, and spread his legs to show off the tight fit of his jeans. 

"You like?" he asked innocently. "I was afraid I looked too scruffy. That you'd be embarrassed." 

" _Like_?" Lex repeated incredulously. "Jesus Christ, Clark, if I liked it any more I'd have-" 

"You'd have?" 

And, judging by the way Lex narrowly stared at him, blue sparks shooting from his eyes, Mr. Luthor Junior had finally caught the clue bus. 

"You fucking tease." 

Oh yeah. Had caught the bus and was a bit dissatisfied with the driving. 

Distraction time. Once again, Clark fingered his new growth of beard. "I thought about shaving it off, you know. It's not a proper beard. Too soft." 

Lex snorted. "Have I ever mentioned that you are a little shit? I can't believe you're playing with me this way, Clark. You knew. You've known all along," he accused. 

"I... suspected. Hoped. But, Lex, I never _knew_ for sure." 

* * *

Oh, that voice. Those soft, hopeful, _soulful_ eyes. 

Lex - for the very first time in his life - gave in. 

"You know now, Clark," he affirmed. Then he smiled an evil smile. "The only question remaining is, what are you going to do about it?" 

With a teasing grin, Clark leaned closer and whispered in Lex's ear, "I'm going to sign up for a new class." 

"A new... _What_?" 

Rising, Clark held out one hand. Without thought, Lex allowed himself to be pulled upright. And forward. Into Clark's arms. Which, as he'd long suspected, was a place Lex seemed to fit into perfectly. He tilted his head back and searched Clark's face. 

If he'd had time, Lex might have worried about his suddenly blurry of his vision. He had, of course, heard of farsightedness. To his knowledge, however, it wasn't the kind of thing that manifested itself between one moment and the next. But. The reason for the degeneration of his perfect vision became clear almost immediately. Because Clark was... 

Oh, God. Kissing him. Warm lips moved over Lex's, moving softly in exploration. A wet tongue traced a line between Lex's upper and lower lips. He opened immediately, only to have that limber appendage enter his mouth and investigate every square millimeter, stroking his palate, tickling his gums, testing the strength and formation of his teeth. And, yes!, it was every bit as perfect as Lex had ever imagined. 

He couldn't even find it within himself to be embarrassed by the whimpers that found their way past the sudden constriction blocking his throat. 

When Clark finally drew away, Lex stared at the slumberous green eyes with stunned amazement. 

Then Clark licked his own lips. Blinked. And grinned. "A new class," he told Lex gravely. "Gay Sex 101." 

And Lex really couldn't think of anything to do but call class to order. 


End file.
